


Fire and Smoke

by Marta



Category: The Silmarillion - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Gap Filler, Gen, Religious Themes & References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-15
Updated: 2010-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marta/pseuds/Marta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Thereafter the fire and smoke went up without ceasing; for the power of Sauron daily increased, and in that temple, with spilling of blood and torment and great wickedness, men made sacrifice to Melkor." (Akallabeth)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sakalzôr told himself to look away from the window. Commanded himself. He knew that, now of all times, he could ill afford to show any evidence of doubts. Tonight's task was difficult enough as it was, with his loyalty beyond reproach; he could hardly bear to think of the alternative. Still, Sakalzôr could not quite tear his eyes away.

He was well-hidden in this antechamber, where the women of Armenelos came to light candles and beseech the First to watch over their husbands serving a tour on the king’s war-ships, or to cure their child of dysentery, or whatever other worry might weigh upon them. Sakalzôr had often hidden in the recesses here, even when he had no duty to perform, for he liked the darkness and the feel of the candles’ flickering heat against his skin. The cool air and the candles’ warmth, set against each other, sent a thrill down his spine. And today of all days there was little chance he'd disturb anyone. Today was a festival, Remembrance Day, and nearly everyone would be in the streets outside waiting for the procession to begin. It took a pious soul indeed to pass up exotic sights, and meat and drink on the king’s coin, to light a candle! 

But for all that, Sakalzôr hardly noticed the joys of his favorite haunt. Outside, one of the younger priests read a list of names: those of Númenor who had died a good death in the last year, through old age or illness or accident or in battle. After each name, Sakalzôr counted his heartbeat – three pulses, and then the clang of a gong. Sakalzôr knew, without even looking, that his sister Gimilbêth rang the gong, for that task always fell to her. But no – he felt tears clawing at the corners of his eyes – not always; not next year. He scrubbed roughly at his eyes with the back of his hand and blinked away the sting.

They had come to the temple together nigh seven years ago, and even before that they had been closer than friends. Indeed, closer than brother and sister, for they were twins. They had discovered the hidden wonders of their house’s attic together, and learned their letters side by side. And if Gimilbêth showed a genius for music while Sakalzôr was more inclined toward athletics, well, their souls still seemed twined together.

Twins were noteworthy but not unheard of in Númenor, and if either of his parents ever spoke of the dangers of that happy accident, it did not stick out in his memory. He knew, of course, that the priests were all born twins, men whose sisters had been accepted into the First’s harem, and whose spirits shone as stars in the inky-black heavens. He had never asked how exactly this was accomplished, and had never been told. (Who would speak to a small child about the different types of sacrifice, the punished infidels bled dry and their corpses tossed out as a feast for the dogs on the one hand, and the First's wives who died by fire so their former selves ascended skyward?) But he was sure his parents had known the possibilities, and he could not remember them ever speaking of it. Not until the priest had come to visit them.

First came the letter, with the Temple's seal pressed into the wax. At that Mother had said nothing. The next day, a priest came round at tea, and while neither Sakalzôr nor Gimilbêth had been invited, of course, but they had crouched down outside the window and heard well enough what went on inside. The priest had spoken of the Year of Choosing – afterward, Sakalzôr learned that a new priest and wife were chosen from the twins born every seventh year – and of Father’s long and honorable (if undistinguished) service as a sailor on the king's battle-ships. 

He had spoken, too, of Gimilbêth’s gift with the lute, and the rare blessing of life without end among the stars. Sakalzôr was not so different from other boys, but he was bright enough, and with proper training the priest was sure he could excel at the temple service. Gimilbêth’s bride-price, too, would provide a healthy stipend for both Mother and Father in their old age. The offer seemed reasonable enough, generous even, but afterward Sakalzôr overheard his parents arguing bitterly through their bedroom door. 

In the end, though, there had been no real choice. Temple service was an honor to any loyal citizen; to say no would be near to treason. Like as not, Father would have been labeled  _Elf-friend_  if he had refused the honor, and the whole family would have been among the dishonored dead left unremembered at year’s end. Every now and again there was a pause in Gimilbêth’s gong, and Sakalzôr knew the priest had passed over a name unspoken: an Elf-friend, or a coward who had run from battle, or a common criminal whose blood had been spilled to slake the First’s everpresent thirst. Such deaths were not celebrated. No, one good death was better than four miserable ones. So Father had said nothing, and if Mother's face was whiter than it once was, she at least took pains not to cry openly. Gimilbêth and Sakalzôr had left the next week, to live with the priests and begin their respective trainings.

Outside, the late-afternoon sun slunk across the sky. It would be dark soon, and the High Priest would be coming for them. They would be dressed in fine linen, and Sakalzôr would wear the circlet normally worn by the High Priest, and Gimilbêth would be anointed with costly perfumes out of Harad. Then would come her bridal feast, and the incense, and the fires, and the.... 

He shook his head, ordering himself not to think too long along that line.  _For thine is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory, forever and ever, sister mine_. She would soar above, adorn the sky with her light; and for his part, he would not be dragged down by tonight’s dreadful deed. After tonight he would be a priest, he would live in luxury and honor. He would live well enough for both of them. Tonight he would do his part as well he could. If he could. 

If he could not... That thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Sakalzôr grasped the window sill to steady himself. No, he would not, could not falter now. He knelt, then, and lit a candle to pray for strength.


	2. Notes

This story is based on (and takes its title from) a dark moment in the history of Númenor:

> Thereafter the fire and smoke went up without ceasing; for the power of Sauron daily increased, and in that temple, with spilling of blood and torment and great wickedness, men made sacrifice to Melkor that he should release them from Death. And most often from among the Faithful they chose their victims; yet never openly on the charge that they would not worship Melkor, the Giver of Freedom, rather was cause sought against them that they hated the King and were his rebels. (“The Akallabêth,”  _The Silmarillion_ )

Beyond that, it is inspired by two of my other Númenor-centric works. Most obviously, it is the backstory for the second and third drabbles in my series [Of Númenor That Was](http://martasfic.dreamwidth.org/37283.html). Gimilbêth and Sakalzôr are original characters from that series. More generally, I have based the sense of fear in this piece on my vignette [Factions](http://martasfic.dreamwidth.org/51754.html). 

Christians may recognize Sakalzôr’s “For thine is the kingdom” quote as coming from the Lord’s Prayer, specifically the version said by Catholics and Anglicans. I am not attempting to criticize Christianity or any other religion, but more to highlight how religion could be abused, and probably was under Sauron’s dominion. The fact that Númenorean theology (which I have only hinted at here, by referring to Morgoth as the First) is a corruption of canonical “truth” is irrelevant; Gimilbêth’s and Sakalzôr’s situation would be just as repugnant if the theology was different. I have used Christian phrasing simply because it's what I grew up with, and I want to present Sauron's dark religion as what is "normal" for Sakalzôr


End file.
